Armageddon_ A Novel of Berlin - Leon Uris [243]
“All of it, Clint ... all of it? How about you and me?”
“That’s up to you.”
“I know you love me, Clint.”
“Almost enough to give up my self-respect.”
A half hour later, Clint’s bags were at the front door when the Loveless apartment was graced by the presence of Pudge Whitcomb himself. The slash-mouth smile was more diagonal than usual. Judy said, “Thank God you’re here ... talk some sense into him.”
“Clint, baby, you’ve been playing the game too hard. You’re a little down.”
“Nonsense. I haven’t been working hard enough.”
“You’re our star halfback. Forget the Robson account. One more citation from the Pinks and we’re going to drop them anyhow. In the meantime, here’s a pair of ducats for Nassau for you and Judy and a bonus to cover expenses.”
“I don’t like Nassau. I might want to go someplace crummy, like Atlantic City.”
“Name it.”
“Germany.”
“Clint ... a little over a year ago when I asked you to join the team ...”
“Can it.”
Pudge began to perspire. “Big deal feeding Germans! Don’t you think your own American people come first! This country needs you! The team needs you!”
The doorman phoned up that a taxi was waiting. Clint picked up his bags.
Pudge stood in the doorway. “I’m tearing up the old contract and writing a new one.”
“Spell it out.”
“All right, it goes like this. Vice presidency, stock options, member of the board, twenty-five grand a year, and a five-thousand expense account.”
Judy’s eyes pleaded.
“Ass was always overpriced in New York,” Clint said. He brushed Pudge Whitcomb aside and left.
Chapter Eleven
THE SIGN ON THE desk read: THE BUCK ENDS HERE. Hiram Stonebraker had once seen it on the President’s desk, admired its philosophy, and the President sent him a copy.
The men in his office had been assembled from all over the globe. They had created the first miracle of air transport, the Hump.
“You people,” Stonebraker crackled, “were brought here because you once had a reputation as can-do people.”
Perry Sindlinger, now a full colonel, would serve as chief of staff; Colonel Matt Beck, a flyer’s flyer, would run Operations and as such be chief pilot; Lieutenant Colonel Sid Swing was back at logistics; Lieutenant Colonel Jose Mendoza, considered the most ingenious maintenance man in the old Army Air Corps, was there, as was Deputy Chief of Staff Lieutenant Colonel Buck Rogers, who had been spirited away from the Army to supervise cargoes and ground transportation and act as staff liaison with the Army; Lieutenant Colonel Ben Scudder, who set up communications on the Hump, would do it again with the new sophisticated electronic aids.
There was Major Lou Edmonds, a forlorn weatherman; and last, old Colonel Swede Swenson, who had put down a string of airfields in the Assam Valley and Bengal Valley and Kunming and would again supervise air installations.
“In the few days since I have arrived to assume this command you people have treated me to a monumental amount of bitching about living quarters and being torn away from families. This goddamned mission is not part of the occupation country club. You are here to work, and what I mean is, if you don’t have a coronary in two months I’ll know you’re not putting out.”
Hiram Ball Breaker was back in the saddle. He hadn’t changed a bit, they thought.
“This mission is to be considered as war. You might encounter a little less flak, but if the Russians don’t fire it, depend on me. Now, as for getting yourselves out of this mess, consider twenty years ... if you’re lucky.”
Jesus Christ, Swede thought, I’ll bet the old bastard couldn’t wait to get back into uniform so he could start chewing asses.
“I expect a full survey of the situation and your reports within twenty-four hours. Remember, an aircraft grounded is of no value. Until spare parts get here we have to cannibalize. Now get in gear and come back with answers.”
The first blow to Stonebraker was the recall of Barney Root to Washington, with General Buff Morgan named the new USAFE chief.
Hiram, like Chip Hansen, was not a member of the WPPA (West Point Protective Association)